


Some Things

by everybodylies



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1878558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everybodylies/pseuds/everybodylies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Death meets an old friend in the desert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Things

**Author's Note:**

> This is an excerpt from a longer piece that I'll almost certainly never finish, though I think it seems to stand well on its own. Enjoy!

“I never much liked sand,” said Cliff Cliffson pointedly, as he stared at the scene before him and did not move an inch. “Very sneaky stuff, sand. At first, you think it’s just sand, but then you get down on your knees and look closer, and it’s actually all these tiny little rocks.”

YES. THOSE ARE THE COMPONENTS OF SAND. 

“And those mountains? No way,” he continued. “I may be a dwarf, but I grew up in the city, you know. I’ve never trusted mountains either. There’s something very suspicious about those giant piles of stone, the way they just… stand there, not moving.”

INDEED. THAT IS WHAT MOUNTAINS DO. NEVERTHELESS, Death said. YOU MUST CROSS.

“I must cross? Must? Listen here, there is nothing that Cliff Cliffson ‘must’ do!”

IF YOU REFUSE TO CROSS, THEN YOU MUST SPEND THE REST ETERNITY HAUNTING THE WORLD AS A GHOST. OR YOU MUST SPEND THE REST OF ETERNITY STANDING HERE.

“There is nothing I ‘must’ do, thank you very much. Cliff Cliffson makes his own decisions!” 

HOW TRAGIC, Death said, straight-faced as always, THAT YOU WERE STRUCK DOWN IN YOUR ADOLESCENCE, AT THE HEIGHT OF YOUR POTENTIAL AND YOUR… REBELLIOUSNESS. AND YOUR TENDENCY TO REFER TO YOURSELF IN THE THIRD PERSON.

“If you’re wondering where the endless beer, gold, and naked women are, they’re down this way, take a left at the giant boulder.” 

The dwarf perked up, all objections forgotten. “Really? Thanks!” he said as started jogging across the sand.

Death looked up to see a scrubby old man, leaning against a tall rock and smoking a cigar. 

YOU. 

Sam Vimes straightened up and walked closer. “Yes. Me.” 

I SINCERELY HOPE YOU HAVE NOT BEEN WAITING HERE FOR THE FIVE HUNDRED AND SEVEN YEARS THAT HAVE PASSED SINCE YOUR DEATH.

Chuckling and shaking his head, Vimes said, “I found my way back here a couple hours ago.”

NO ONE HAS EVER DONE THAT BEFORE, said Death, though, to his credit, he did not seem surprised at all. He cocked his head. ARE YOU NOT SATISFIED WITH ETERNAL PARADISE? 

Vimes shrugged. “I wanted to see my city again. Check on her. It’s been too long. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love it: spending afternoons with Sybil, patrolling in the rain, playing with Young Sam, frustrating Vetinari. But I worry. So, I’m asking you for a favor.” 

I AM DEATH. NOT A TAXI SERVICE. 

“I mean, technically, you are,” Vimes retorted. He tapped his cigar, and the ashes fell into the gray sand, virtually indistinguishable. “Just, you usually only go one way. D’you think you could make an exception for an old friend?”

OLD FRIEND?

“Don’t you remember all those times we shared? When I would lie on the ground, gasping for breath, and you would sit there and read a book?” 

I DO REMEMBER. AND I SUPPOSE YOU DID JUST ASSIST ME WITH THAT STUBBORN DWARF. 

Death waved his scythe, and a doorway appeared in the air. 

Vimes shook Death’s hand, grinning. “Thank you.” 

Death left Vimes for several minutes to collect another soul, and upon his return, he found Vimes in Sator Square, munching on a sausage inna bun with the most content smile on his face.

A LOT HAS CHANGED SINCE YOU WERE HERE LAST, Death said as he approached. THE SELF-POWERING CARTS AND THE TALKY WIRES—

“No,” Vimes sighed. He paused to spit out a black chunk of mystery meat. “It’s the same. It’s all exactly the same.”


End file.
